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02 • #AllWashedUp

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New York City may be one of the biggest cities in the world, but to me, it felt just as gossipy and judgy as any small town

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New York City may be one of the biggest cities in the world, but to me, it felt just as gossipy and judgy as any small town. I didn't need a working phone to know my dip in the pool was currently circling the social media drain. Just like my reputation.

The following day, after making a mid-morning appointment at the Apple store to buy a new phone, I shuffled into my coworking workspace wearing my biggest pair of Dior sunglasses. Even though purchasing a new thousand-dollar phone wasn't in my new, client-less budget, I didn't have much choice. I had to have a phone.

But, it was going to put me in a tough spot.

My private office was already costing me seventeen hundred dollars a month, and at this point, my credit card bills were astronomical.

I'd justified the expense of the workspace because professional talent agents needed an office. I couldn't bring clients back to my tiny apartment. And besides, the building was in the heart of Midtown, right off Broadway and 39th, close to the famous theaters where all my clients worked.

Well, where all my former clients worked. After last night's disastrous meeting, I'd gone back home and opened my laptop to find emails from Lola, Enrico, and Terrence, all announcing that they would not be renewing their contracts with me.

"You've been a total doll to work with, Maren. We should totally still meet up on Taco Tuesday!" Lola had said in her email. The fact that she still wanted to be friends after leaving me for my mother's agency was adorable.

I clicked open Enrico's message to find more of the same. "You should come work for Mitchell Enterprise! Then you could still be my agent."

I closed that email without reading another word.

When I opened Terrence's email, big fat tears welled in my eyes. He'd been my very first client. His career started at Mitchell Enterprise when I was still working as my mother's assistant. Eleanor had refused to sign a new contract with him after the first term, claiming he was the season's biggest let down. Not main cast material.

It was the same thing she'd told me.

"Thanks for believing in me, Maren! I wouldn't be here without you!" Terrence claimed at the end of his incredibly complimentary break-up email. I typed back a quick, "You're main cast material. Never forget it." Then hit send.

Which was precisely when my emotional breakdown began. Tears and snot dripped down my face while I cried about my shitty, horrible, worst day ever.

Not only had I lost my dignity after being knocked into a pool by Patrick, but my career had sunk right down with me.

"This isn't even fucking fair," I choked out in between sobs. "I treated them all so well." I hadn't cried this hard since being dumped by Tommy, my narcissistic guitar-playing boyfriend, six months ago. "And I ruined a rented designer dress that now I'm going to have to buy."

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